I Still Remember
by sliceofperfection
Summary: Mark and Addison meet at the Hamptons the summer before medical school. But like most summer romances they reach their inevitable end. Maddison Pre-series
1. Chapter 1

**So this was actually something I wrote a couple of years ago and turned in as part of a final paper for one of my English classes. And the reason I'm just posting this now is because I happened to stumble upon it when I was cleaning out my folder full of old writings. Upon reading it over, and at the persuasion of some friends I have decided to reformat it and publish it. So this will be separated into four parts (because like all of my writings, it's lengthy), and it's basically my interpretation of how Mark and Addison met before medical school. So...enjoy!**

* * *

_I still remember how you looked that afternoon,_

_There was only you._

She dips her toes in the edge of the crystalline pool, sending ripples in every direction. They fan out in continuous streams as her big toe lazily drew along the surface. She regards them like some masterful work of art that inspires both a simplicity and calmness; two concepts she isn't altogether familiar with, but somehow finds herself longing to understand.

Her thoughtfulness is broken when a deafening crackling against the water sprays droplets against her mostly concealed figure. Sighing with irritation and flailing the sleeves of her pristinely white (now dampened) sheer cover-up to express her feelings of antagonism towards the intruder. "Oh!" She cries out in a moment of uncontrollable ecstasy. The coolness of the water highly contrasts with her sun kissed ivory skin, plastering the extra article of clothing to her body. Her mouth rounds in utter disbelief when she realizes how exposed she's become in a matter of seconds.

The flaxen haired boy who disrupted her peaceful afternoon at the supposedly closed country club resurfaces from the deep end of the pool, a crooked half grin on his face as he treads water. "Sorry about that," He apologizes less than genuinely. The amusement of her disgust translates more than his attempt at remorse.

She then narrows her shaded eyes, lips creasing in a defined frown. "You ruined a perfectly fine article of clothing I hope you know," She asserts plainly. Her arms fold over her chest and she swings both of her legs onto the pool deck.

He swims slowly towards her side of the pool, intrigued by her unexplainable cold attitude towards him. Most women would have shrieked in delight and splashed back at him, then they would be at his mercy. But she obviously did not play by the same rules that the typical bleached blondes and exotic brunettes of the Hamptons utilized. "Oh come on, Red. It's only a little water."

She turns her face towards him and snaps back through gritted teeth, "Don't. Call me that."

He approaches her side of the pool, propping his arms beside her seat on the pool deck. Tilting his head to the side he chants mercilessly, "Didn't your mother teach you how to have a civilized conversation?"

She jumps at their sudden close proximity. Practically glowering at his words she rejoins pointedly, "Didn't your mother teach you that trespassing is illegal? This is a private club."

"Well, it's a good thing I am a member." He climbs up out of the pool, dripping wet. His defined muscles gleam in the summer sun and she can't help but allow her eyes sweep over his well-constructed form. She notes how inappropriately low his swimming trunks hang against his waist, his abdomen rippling without any work on his part necessary. "Like what you see?"

She rolls her eyes behind Aviator shades, but the golden tint doesn't completely disguise them to the point where he cannot notice. "Please," She denies any implications her wondering gaze might have prompted by keeping her face turned sharply to the side, the heat in her cheeks rising despite her inward protests. "Don't you have a slew of blonde playboy bunny types to fan your ego?"

He chuckles in amusement at her bluntness. But then he continues confidently, "I've always had a thing for redheads." Both of his hands fall at his hips, a widened stance emphasizing his overly self-assured personality.

"Funny," She remarks smartly while turning her face up towards the sun, "I've always had a thing for dark haired men."

"A redhead with a sense of humor. I like you already."

She scrambles to her feet in a less than ladylike manner that would send Bizzy into a rant of disapproval and faces him with a set jaw. "I know who you are," She begins in a warning tone, "my friend Kelly Walton went out with you a couple of times. You slept with her and said you'd call her then you never did."

He lifts an incredulous brow at such unexpected forwardness. "Is that a fact?"

She nods solemnly with no indication of further comment.

Normally an arrogant comment would slip from his lips and his eyes glaze over with indifference, a slight shame etches its way across his face. His arms cross over his chest and he frowns at her in a similar manner. "In my defense, she most likely knew about my reputation. Few can claim they expected more from me."

She arches a perfectly manicured brow that peeks over her lenses, "So the rest are just what…stupid and desperate for attention?"

He shrugs with a half smirk, "Aren't we all?"

"Not me," She insists boldly.

"Well of course not," He taunts, "you're Archer Montgomery's little sister. You have more money than God."

She tries not to appear surprised that he recognized her through Archer. Most people knew the Forbes-Montgomery's; their dynasty was one of the most affluent and known for turning out three (soon to be four) generations of doctors. But even though she purses her lips, and manages to find her voice again there's a lingering curiosity in the back of her mind about her brother's relationship to this cocky, blonde boy. "Correction, my parents have more money than God." She places her hands on her hips, mirroring his widened stance.

He notices this and cracks a grin, "So you don't deny that everyone knows who you are?"

"Not everyone. People didn't notice me until I grew boobs and ditched the braces," The words slip out and she instantly regrets them. Crossing her arms over her chest, she hugs herself self-consciously and dips her head forward out of discomfort at displaying more than her steely exterior.

He watches her movements curiously, finding the imperfections she willingly admits to be intriguing. "I would have noticed," He comments softly. He's not exactly sure what prompts him to say this, especially when both of them know this is far from true.

Her eyes snap up to meet his, the sharp contours of her downturned mouth looking at him with a newfound disdain. Her arms snap to the sides of her body, hands clenching into fists. "There's only one thing worse than being a womanizer and it's a liar," She snaps before brushing past him their shoulders bumping forcibly in the process.

"I have a name, you know." He rotates slowly on the spot, hoping she doesn't have intentions of storming off without at least a proper introduction.

She's not exactly sure why, but she halts on the pool deck. Letting out an exasperated sigh she glances over her shoulder at him in disbelief.

"You just…keep referring to me as a womanizer." He shrugs before scuffing his feet against the pavement, "I'm more than that you know. If you got to know me, you might see that. Anyway, sorry to trouble you." He waves then turns away from her and takes a few strides in the other direction.

There's humility under his arrogance and this catches her off guard. If he had been truly as transparent as other people made him seem, she would have stormed off without another word. But maybe, just maybe underneath the self-destructive sexualized man who found a way under her skin, there is some unique quality only she can see.

"Addison!" She shouts across the pool deck while trotting in his direction.

He stops and wheels around, which causes her to skid to a stop right before him. "Excuse me?" He furrows his brow, this time showcasing his own astonishment.

Cocking her hand against her hip and tilting her head to the side she returns pointedly, "My name. Is Addison Montgomery." She dares to offer a faint half smile.

He studies Addison's shielded face for several moments, unable to tell if she's mocking him or being sincere. When her look doesn't break he takes in a breath and musters a similar smile. He extends a hand for her to shake, "Mark Sloan."

"It's nice to meet you, Mark." She says politely, not necessarily meaning it but feeling an obligation due to being properly raised in the gated communities of Connecticut.

Mark senses this and teases, "You don't really mean that."

His grip on her hand remains firm; long after either one of them is interested in the courteous gesture.

She glances down at his hand in hers and sighs with a soft smile pealing at her lips, "Not really. But you wouldn't have noticed me without boobs, either."

They part ways. The idea of a perfectly matched partner doesn't register. Maybe ignorance and pride blind them from seeing the truth of the situation. But they cannot deny the meeting wasn't completely meaningless.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all your feedback. Enjoy the second part to this installment...it's a bit lengthier than the first and introduces more characters.**

* * *

_You said it's just like a full moon,_

_And blood beats faster in our veins._

The secret society of young adults in the Hamptons found ways of entertaining themselves when their parents were too busy nosing around in other people's business. Archer and Addison Montgomery found themselves inducted into the informal community when they received their undergraduate diplomas. Archer of course was three years into the club, while Addison had just joined a couple of months ago. Despite her new membership, Addison fit right in with a group of tightly knit girls whose main concern was breaking away from the trophy wife ideology boys their age longed to preserve.

Savannah Vanderbilt-Brown and Naomi Franklin were her closest allies. Savannah, or Sav as she asked most people to call her, had high aspirations of a law career and would be starting at Harvard in the fall. Addison supposed she would miss Sav the most, mainly because she knew they wouldn't see one another aside from the few summer months in between the next several years. Naomi on the other hand would be attending Columbia University's medical school alongside Addison. She had similar interests in gynecology and obstetrics, but was also toying with the idea of genetics. Whatever her decision, Addison felt confident that she would at least have someone in her corner as she took the plunge into bigger and better things in life.

While their upcoming semester was on their minds, the three women and others like them managed to push it aside in order to enjoy what they had left of their summer months. They stood in Sav's room on one such evening, each taking turns in front of the several mirrors to examine their outfit, hair, and makeup choices.

Addison tilts her head to admire every possible angle of her expertly curled red waves that typically don't comply with her style choices. She toys with the idea of a placing an accessory for a side accent piece, but sets the sparkly barrette down on Sav's vanity set again.

She purses her lips and applies a fair amount of brownish red of liner around her mouth before dabbing on a complimentary lipstick. Popping her lips for effect she then grabs a tissue and mutes the vibrant tones to give her something more of a natural look. Glancing down on the vanity counter she decides on a dark violet matte mixed with a white, to highlight her well-defined bone structure. Dabbing it on her finger, she begins smearing the colors against her pale lids.

"Geez Addie, are you going to let someone else use the mirror?" Sav teases, hot rollers still sprinkled through her blonde waves. She appears by Addison's side, prompting the redhead to scoot over and allow for the mirror to be shared.

"Sorry," She apologizes with that familiar heat rising in her cheeks once more.

"Since when do you wear that much makeup anyway?" Naomi looks up from the fashion magazine she's lazily flipping through while lounging on Sav's bed.

"Since Phil Donovan told her he wanted to see her," Sav chimes in knowingly while brushing her eyelashes with mascara.

Addison rolls her eyes and sighs at this, "It's no big deal. Donovan tells a lot of girls that."

"No he doesn't," Naomi giggles before sitting up from her place on the bed.

"He thinks you're _fine_, Addie." Sav informs her friend with a coy half smirk before closing the mascara tube and then offering it to friend.

"As if!" Addison disagrees, snatching the tube from Sav.

Naomi shakes her head at them, "You do know how unsanitary that is, right?"

"Excuse us, for not having such natural beauty, Dr. Franklin." Sav lifts a haughty brow, causing Addison to chuckle.

"Oh shut up," Naomi grumbles before standing to grab her dress from the back of Sav's armchair. "You two are gorgeous."

"But we have to work for it," Addison scrunches her newly powdered face for emphasis.

"Yeah," Sav echoes with an air of false jealousy, "we don't have the love of a gorgeous man yet."

Naomi frowns while stripping out of her robe and slipping into her dress, "What? Weren't you just saying Phil had a thing for Addison?"

"Yeah because Donovan thinking 'I'm fine' and Sam telling you he loves you are the same thing," Addison mocks with a smirk.

Sav nods, "She's right. Donovan probably just wants to take her on his boat and-ow!" She cringes when Addison smacks her shoulder lightly. "What? I hear he's very good about letting you steer if you point his boat in the right direction."

"Well I'm not going to be another notch in Donovan's mast," Addison asserts boldly, causing a round of infectious high-pitched giggles to resonate throughout Sav's bedroom.

* * *

The modern style of the Vanderbilt-Brown home in Montauk was a mixture of old and new money. The sharp angles and floor to ceiling length windows made for a very open environment with little privacy. But the spacious rooms and multiple levels could easily house a party for a few hundred. There were two balconies one extending from the top level and overlooking the Atlantic Ocean, the lower tiered one providing a nice view of Montauk Lake. And the fire pit and in ground pool in their backyard allowed for more shenanigans (mainly started by the underage girls who were welcomed in by Sav's brother).

Among the hundred and fifty or so that show up that evening is Archer Montgomery, Addison's older brother. He takes to drinking a bottle of scotch, stolen from his father's private stores in their summer villa, in the backyard with his usual posse who enjoy rich drinks and loose women just as much as he does. Among them is Phil Donovan, whom recently had his eye on Archer's little sister.

The boy with midnight black hair and coffee colored eyes claps onto Archer's shoulder in a greeting. "Hey dude, what's going on?"

"Oh just enjoying some of the Captain's finest," He lifts the glass of amber liquid with an arrogant smirk. "Want a glass?" He reaches behind the outdoor bar he's sitting at for an empty one and begins pouring.

"Thanks Montgomery," Phil accepts the glass and clinks the rim against Archer's before taking a sip.

"Cheers Donovan," Archer replies before sipping deeply from the glass. Smacking his lips together he nods, "Ahhh…that's good stuff."

Phil agrees, "Speaking of good stuff…where's Addison at?"

Archer flashes his friend a warning look, "Watch it Donovan, that's my little sister you're talking about."

"Oh come on Montgomery. She's not _that_ type of girl, and everyone knows it." Phil smirks back at him.

"Yeah, but you're _that _type of guy." He counters swiftly, "She's off limits."

"Who's off limits?" Comes Mark Sloan's gruff voice.

"Sloan!" Archer reaches a hand for the younger man to shake.

Mark shakes hand with Archer and then Phil, respectively before settling down on Archer's other side at the bar. "So what's going on guys? Find any prospects for the night?" He remarks coyly, making eyes with a blonde who's currently stripping down to her underwear near the edge of the pool.

"I wouldn't mind her," Archer's gaze follows Mark's to the girl who dives in with black lingerie.

"I already know who I'm going home with," Donovan winks at Archer before moving away from the bar, in search of a certain redhead.

"Dude! Not cool!" He shouts after his friend before downing more of his scotch.

"Who's Donovan got his eye on tonight?" Mark asks with slight disgust in his tone. The third year medical student was smooth with the ladies, but only when they were too sloppy to actually refuse him. Mark did often take advantage of women, but there was something more offensive about the way Phil Donovan did it.

"My sister," Archer tells him sullenly. "I swear to God, I will kick his ass if he's actually successful."

Mark's stomach plummets at the thought of Phil Donovan with the beautiful redhead who seems better then the rest of them. He then realizes part of his reason for not really liking the guy. "I'll help you," He offers before downing the rest of his beer.

* * *

Sav ditches them when the guests start arriving in waves because she needs to play the role of hostess, and make sure her younger brother isn't letting in too many of his underage friends. Shortly after Sam shows up with an eager smile, round glasses with thick black frames, and a rather offensive plaid shirt. It's an odd choice of dress, but like Naomi's long sleeve floral print, and Addison's off the shoulder long sleeved dress, they won't fully come to understand this until much later in life.

But despite Sam's obvious nerdiness, Addison is grateful that Naomi and him are polite enough to include her in their conversation so she isn't left to fend off Phil Donovan. Sam notices Addison's distaste for someone like Phil and mentions he has a friend, Derek, who would be perfect for her. Naomi doesn't seem too impressed by this suggestion, saying Derek is nothing like the guys Addison usually dates. Although after two fruity mixed drinks, Addison admits she might like to date someone who's completely different than her usual boyfriends.

Several hours pass and it becomes apparent the three of them are reaching that point of drunkenness where emotions run high, and Naomi gives Addison a signal that she wants a few moments in a darkened corner with Sam. Growing annoyed with the blaring techno beat in the living room turned nightclub, Addison decides to grab some fresh air on the lower level balcony that stretches along the South facing side of the beach house.

It's not as crowded as the backyard it overlooks, but a good bit of people use the area for places to hook up in various states of scandal as well as engage in drunken smoking. Addison stumbles passed a couple busy sucking on one another's necks, and chokes through several clouds of smoke before reaching the other end that is virtually empty. Sloshing more of the red juice and vodka around in her glass, she leans her back up against the smooth plaster of the house. She closes her eyes only to find that everything is still spinning, and the occasional bump against her shoulder is enough to send her balance off kilter.

After several minutes of feeling like she might hurl over the edge, a familiar drawl comes from the right of her, "Well look who it is."

Addison opens one eye and practically groans when she recognizes the blonde boy with an arrogant smirk from the pool. "Urgh, _you_ again."

"I barely recognized you without the sunglasses and disapproving look." He chides, before noticing her sweaty forehead and pale complexion. "Are you ok?" He asks when she looks at him through glassy eyes that don't seem to focus on anything.

"Fine," She assures him, bringing the plastic cup to his mouth and taking another sip of her drink to prove him wrong.

He smiles teasingly at her, "You're drunk."

"No. I'm not," Addison tells him at a slower rate, making it obvious her brain needs more time to properly process words. "I am. Completely. Fine."

"Uh-huh," Mark nods mockingly at her. He fishes in his pocket for the pack of cigarettes, fingers one before balancing it in between his lips and lighting the tip on fire.

She scrunches her nose up at him when he accidentally blows smoke in her direction. Swiping at the air in front of her, Addison frowns over at the blonde boy whose grin seems to deepen at her displeasure. "There's that look of disapproval again," He points at her with his smoking hand. "Your mother clearly taught you how to identify socially unacceptable behavior and voice your opinion of it."

Addison rolls her eyes at him before waltzing over to the railing he's leaning against. "Clearly she didn't do a very good job," She raises her glass in the air, downing the contents of it. "Otherwise I'd be home…and in bed." Her lips curl up into a smirk as she says this to him, the alcohol giving her more courage than she remembers ever having when talking to boys.

Mark picks up on her flirtatious tone and can't help but play into it. Lifting a curious brow he chuckles, "So you're talking to me about your bed, and somehow I end up being pegged as a womanizer?"

"Well aren't you?" Addison glances over at him, this time curiosity etching its way across her face.

Mark shrugs, "I guess that's one way to see it."

"And the other way? Of seeing it?" She prompts daringly.

He thinks for a moment while taking another drag off his cigarette. "I guess…I guess I just haven't found anyone I really like yet." His grey green eyes focus on the ground and he shrugs with a nervous laugh, "I don't know. Maybe that's just something guys like me say."

She regards him in a new light, seeing passed the typical façade of a privileged boy. In that moment, she sees the chink in his armor of arrogance and certainty, and can't help but think that he's really different than the others. "It's not," She assures him with a warm smile. "Guys like that blame their libertine fathers."

"Well my Dad couldn't have helped," Mark comments dryly.

She sniggers in reply, "Mine either."

Mark catches her eye again, and finds himself transfixed. She's half smiling, half leering at him with a glint of something lovely within her bright green eyes. Her body leans provocatively forward enough for him to notice the natural swell of her breasts, and her hand rests on top of the railing only a few centimeters from the crook of his elbow. He wonders if she notices the close, acute angles their bodies are making; or if her skin is rippling with desire for just a touch like his. But he doesn't have long to wonder because their moment is interrupted by non other than Phil Donovan.

"Addison," He places a hand on her shoulder blade before lowering his mouth against her ear, "you could make a guy go crazy trying to find you here."

She shrugs off his arm, and smirks smartly, "Donovan, I was beginning to wonder if you'd found someone else to take on your boat for a midnight sail."

Phil chuckles in amusement. Reaching out for her forearm, he tries again in smoother tones. "Oh come on Addison, you know I only have eyes for you."

Rolling her eyes at him, Addison shakes her head slowly. "Find someone else to sweet talk, Donovan. I'm busy." She moves to turn away from him.

But Phil obviously isn't giving up easily. He grabs her arm more forcefully, but offers a grin that shows off two rows of teeth. "What could you possibly be busy with?"

Wrenching her arm free she remarks icily, "I'm having a conversation. And you're being rude." Addison takes a few steps back before wrapping an arm around Mark's waist. Turning her face up to the blonde's she smiles sweetly, "I'm ready for you to walk me home now, Sloan."

Mark tries not to laugh at her attempts to outsmart Phil Donovan. Clearing his throat he chuckles softly and swings an arm over both of her shoulders to steady her. "Sure thing, Red." Nodding at the awestruck boy, "Phil, you have a good night."

Addison waves with a triumphant smile, "Bye Donovan."

As soon as they brush passed him and Addison's certain they are out of earshot, she grumbles in Mark's ear. "What did I say about you calling me that?"

"It won't happen again," He brings his arms up out of mock surrender.

She rolls her eyes, "I won't hold my breath."

* * *

They stumble drunkenly down the long dirt and sand mixed road towards the Forbes-Montgomery villa, high pitched squeals of laughter and the sloshing of liquid in a stolen bottle trailing ahead of them. Mark tries to take her up the main walkway to the house, but Addison grabs onto his hand and persuades him to sneak around through the back. As she fumbles with the spare key underneath a potted plant, Mark stands off to the side sipping on the bottle of coconut rum.

Several minutes pass before the lock slips back and the door creaks open. She cracks a smile, quietly applauding at the minute victory. Mark stores the bottle underneath his arm and claps at the achievement as well.

"Wanna come inside?" Addison asks, hanging on the doorway with a seductive grin splitting her lips.

Mark steps until his body is only a few inches from hers, his face looking down at her mouth hungrily. "And what would we do inside?" He questions with a curious grin.

"I could invite you inside for a drink," Addison suggests, bringing her arms around his neck. Her hips knock into his and she mutters in his ear, "My mother would want me to be a good hostess."

Mark's arms encircle her waist and then he angles his face back to look her in the eyes again. "I think we've had enough to drink," He informs her lightly, reaching to brush a strand of red from in front of her face.

"So? You can still come in," She tells him invitingly.

He laughs nervously at the persistent provocation. There's something about her that grabs his attention, and makes him second-guess his actions. If she had been any other girl he used for one night, he would have been upstairs in her bedroom right now. And yet they were still standing on the back stoop, with not so much as a kiss exchanged between them.

Cocking her head to the side, she digs again with a devilish half grin. "Or are you all talk and no action?"

At the dig concerning his reputation, something inside of him shifts. Maybe it's her willingness to speak so freely with him when she could have her choice of any guy. Or maybe it's just a surge of alcohol mixed with the close proximity of a beautiful girl. Whatever the reason for his need to get closer to her, he takes her in his arms and presses his mouth against hers. He tangles a hand through her red curls, his lips relaxing against hers when she opens her lips and allows his tongue to sweep across her top lip.

She groans and nibbles at the bottom half of his mouth before fusing their lips together again in a battle for control. Mark tugs at her hair until her head tilts back, revealing her long neck. Leaning forward he sucks at her skin, creating her ivory skin to flush and her chest to rise and fall rapidly. He feels her hands digging into the back of his head, urging him to continue.

After several moments of exploring each other's necks and faces, they finally stop. Their foreheads brush together and they are practically panting at the intensity of the heated make out session. Once he regains his normal breathing again, Mark quips with a playful smirk. "Still think I'm all talk?" His thumbs dig into the outline of her hipbones.

Addison keeps her eyes shut tightly and exhales softly, "No. I don't."

He wants for her to make the next move, figuring if she really wants this to be one night of drunken passion she'll initiate herself. Mark plants a soft kiss at her forehead, regaining her attention. She stares up at him with a now guarded look, her body tensing in his arms. "What?"

"Nothing," She shakes her head as if trying to recollect the emotions threatening to escape her. Offering him another dazzling smile she asks again, "So do you still want to come inside?"

"Do _you_ still want me to?" He questions, knowing his answer. And judging by the fleeting look of hesitation, she thinks she knows what his answer will be too.

She nods as her face fills with desire.

Mark kisses the side of her face again and whispers in her ear, "Then lead the way, Red."


	3. Chapter 3

_You should have asked me for it._

_How could I say no?_

The early hours of morning blossom sooner than either one of them wants to accept. Streaks of pink and orange light up the sky as it pours through the cracks of the wooden blinds on Addison's bedroom window. She stirs from the deep sleep only to jolt up when she discerns the added pressure on her stomach is someone else's arm. Wearing the same dress from last night sans bra and panties and noticing the boy in her bed has no shirt and only underwear on, only alludes to their drunken actions of last night. Checking the time on her nightstand clock, she realizes only fifteen minutes remain until the household staff rises to prepare them for the day.

She prods his shoulder only to be met with a snorting noise. "Sloan," She hisses, shaking his shoulder more fiercely, "Sloan wake up!"

"Huh?" He moans sleepily, his eyelids straining to open.

Addison slips out of his grasp and begins searching through the semi-darkness for his clothes. "You have to get up!" She mutters again, tiptoeing around her bed for any evidence of where he might have stripped down.

"What time is it?" Mark groans, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Almost six," She mumbles under her breath before discovering the mess of soiled clothes that once belonged to Mark Sloan. "Oh no," Distress enters her voice and she runs her hands down the side of her face while her frown only deepens. "Eww, eww, eww…"

"What?" Mark rolls over cautiously so the vertigo from his hangover doesn't result in more vomit than what is already all over Addison's floor. Scrunching his brow he asks, "Did I throw up last night?"

Addison shoots him a dark look from her crouched position on the floor. It's an obvious question really, considering the orangish colored mush is all over his clothes. She stands and points a threatening finger in his direction, "Don't you move. Don't you make a sound. Just stay there and stay silent. I will be right back."

"Great," He falls back against her mattress, figuring he might be able to sleep some more if she leaves him alone for a few minutes.

She slips out of the room and pads down the hallway as quietly as she can. Stopping outside of Archer's room she holds her breath and carefully twists the doorknob so it doesn't make a sound. She inwardly prays the housekeeper had someone oil the hinges, but her prayers are left unanswered as it creaks in protest at being opened by an intruder. Addison stops for a moment to listen for any sounds of life on the other side, and luckily she can hear Archer snoring softly in his sleep.

She peers around the opening to reveal her brother lying on his stomach, facing the opposite wall. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Addison sneaks inside and then creeps over to his closet for a shirt and pair of jeans. After she nimbly drapes the clothes over her arm, she hears her brother turn over in his bed and quickly darts out of the room before he can notice anything is amiss.

Addison returns to her bedroom undetected, tossing the clothes on top of Mark casually. "Get dressed," She instructs plainly.

"You're very bossy," He observes with a cheeky grin. Sitting up on the bed, he slips the pale blue polo over his head. "I like that."

The redhead is turned around, and begins unzipping her dress. Hurriedly stepping out of it, she quickly shrugs back into her pink fluffy robe before Mark can see her naked again.

"No need to undress for me again," Mark chides, earning him a trademark Addison Montgomery glare.

"Obviously I didn't," She remarks smartly.

"From what I can remember," Mark continues with a cocky grin, "that's not completely true." He slides off her bed and towers over her, waiting for her to stare at his nearly naked lower half and then later deny it.

Her mouth opens slightly out of horror at his lack, but she shakes her head in order to regain her composure. Concentrating and being serious are rather difficult when he's around. His light teasing and that arrogant smirk make her forget about the appropriate behavior her mother instilled in her. Not to mention, the spark from his skin brushing against hers to something unspeakable to her heart she would rather forget. "You…you have to go," She tells him unconvincingly.

Mark steps into the jeans she gave him and then touches his chest, muttering sarcastically. "You're not going to invite me to breakfast? Ouch Red, that kind of hurt."

She smirks up at him in retort, "I'm sure you'll survive." Nodding towards the direction of her door she adds with a serious tone, "Now will please go?"

The smiles fades from his face a bit, and she swears she can see a trace of something more vulnerable than his usual witty banter. "Sure thing, Red." He inclines his head and then moves to duck out of her room, commencing in the walk of shame that is nothing new for him. Even if what he's about to do next is. "One more thing," He turns back around only to catch her closer to him than before. Cocking his head to the side he wonders in the most serious tone she's heard from him, "Should I call you?"

Addison blinks up at him, perplexed. "What?"

"Should I call you?" He repeats.

She narrows her eyes, wondering if he's only teasing her again. "Why-why would you do that?"

Mark notes her level of defensiveness, and tries to appear sincere so she has a reason to trust him. "Because I had a good time with you," He shrugs, "and uh, I would like to have a good time with you again. Preferably, not completely hammered." A nervous snicker comes out before he tries to regain his composure again, "Anyway, I'm asking if I should call you because I don't know if you want to see me again. But I know I want to see you again, if you want to see me again." He realizes his rambling probably makes him sound like an idiot because he's certainly starting to feel like one, especially when he reiterates. "So should I…should I call you, Red?"

She considers listening to the sound of her heart before actually thinking about this request in a rational matter. However living in a world where a man thinks he owns a woman once he has a way into her heart, forces her to think rationally. She's not built to react on emotions when alcohol isn't involved. So she answers his question with one of her own, "What's my name?"

"I'm sorry?" He answers caught off guard by the randomness of her response.

"My name." She repeats slower, "What is my name?" Folding her arms in front of her she taunts, taking advantage of his obviously nervous demeanor. "I'm beginning to think you can't remember because you're so insistent on calling me by that horribly cliché nickname."

"You're Addison," Mark allows a light smile to play at his lips as he hears it for the first time in his own voice. When she doesn't say anything he continues until she seems satisfied, "Addison Montgomery. Addison _Forbes_-Montgomery."

Her face lights up in a similar manner, she nods. "Ok, you can call me."

"Really?"

"Yeah," She laughs lightly. "But if you don't go before Archer or the Captain finds you spent the night you'll never have the chance."

Mark bobs his head out of understanding that her father or older brother wouldn't respond favorably to discovering he slept with her while inebriated.

Extending a hand for him to shake, she admits with a shy smile. "I'm glad you stayed, Mark Sloan."

"I'm glad you let me, Addison Montgomery," He places his hand in hers.

Right as she's about to take her hand back, Mark surprises her by pulling her closer until their bodies hit. With his free hand he reaches up to touch the side of her face before sinking his lips onto hers. Her other hand that isn't holding his reaches up to grab his forearm as she responds with the same fervor. The kiss is so hard she's afraid she might faint, but he releases her after what feels like an appropriate amount of time. Her hand still resting on his arm, she giggles up at his pleased expression before playfully shoving him out into the hallway.

* * *

They continue to sneak around under the guise of nightfall for the next couple of weeks. It's a lot easier for them to make excuses about not being able to go out since the only real overlap in their social circles include Archer. However Sav and Naomi grow suspicious when Addison declines going over to Scott Patterson's for the second Saturday in a row.

"There is no way you are sick, Addie. You were just out in the city with Sav yesterday," Naomi insists plainly on the phone before changing her tone to something of concern, "What is really going on with you?"

"Nothing Nae," Addison sighs.

"You're different these days," She tells her friend.

And maybe it's true. Maybe her denying it will only betray her attempts to conceal a relationship from the rest of the world. So she replies to Naomi's observation casually. "Maybe I am. Maybe I just don't like waking up every morning with a splitting headache, barely able to remember what happened the night before."

There's a pause on the other end of the phone. And then a hesitant, "Addie? Are you seeing someone?"

"What? No!" She echoes in a high-pitched tone, "Where would you get an idea like that from?"

"Ok, I wasn't going to say anything but…Sam said he saw you and Mark Sloan leave Sav's party a few weeks ago."

"So?" Addison feigns innocence, "That doesn't mean anything."

"So you _did_ leave him with him?" Naomi probes for conformation.

Swallowing she replies tensely, "Yes, but he was just helping me get away from Phil Donovan. He was being polite."

Naomi remarks warily, "From what I've heard, Mark Sloan isn't _just_ polite."

"Well he was. And since when do you believe everything you here?" Addison returns hotly.

"I don't," Naomi exhales exasperatedly, "look come to Scott's tonight or don't. Sav and I will be there." She hangs up, leaving Addison alone on her bed to her thoughts.

She doesn't know how much time passes until a light knock at her bedroom door catches her attention. "Come in," She calls out casually.

Archer steps inside, inclines his head in her direction and then asks, "Hey, you still have my blue polo shirt?"

Her body tenses at the unexpectedness of his question and she can only think to deny it. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Addie don't play dumb."

She rolls her eyes at him and asserts, "I'm not. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I saw you leave my room with it. And when I asked Phil Donovan if he had it, he told me to ask Mark Sloan." Archer informs her plainly with a curious look on his face. "What's going on with you two?"

Addison stares at him for a few moments, trying not to allow a shift in emotions to be readable across her face. "Archer what do Bizzy and the Captain always say to us?" She remarks coolly, "Montgomery's look the other way when it's none of their business."

"But this is my business!" He counters sternly, "You are my little sister and he is my best friend."

"That may be so, but both of us are consenting adults." She reminds him with a solemn expression, "Mark and I have fun together, what's so wrong with that?"

"You're too good for him!" Archer raises his voice out of indignation.

She leaps to her feet as the conversation elevates into something more. Frowning back in confusion she cries back incredulously, "How can you even say that about one of your best friends?"

"Because he's just like me!" Archer shouts back with a certainty that rips through her, "He's not looking to commit. He doesn't want anything serious. And I know you, Addison. I know that every single guy you've ever been with you've gotten attached to. Even the ones you never planned on getting serious with, you have. Mark Sloan isn't the type of guy to get attached to one woman." He sighs heavily when he notes the hurt on her face, and then he adjusts his voice to a softer octave. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"Ok, this overly protective big brother routine is getting really irritating," Addison snaps back, her voice shaking with anger, "Archer I'm a grown woman. I can make my own decisions and I don't need you to protect me from guys you don't think are good enough for me. Just because you've never been able to be with a girl for more than five seconds, doesn't mean Mark is incapable of it."

"Fine," Archer relents when he sees this is going nowhere. "But let me ask you this, why is it that he's had you sneaking around with him for weeks? If he were serious about you, he wouldn't be trying to hide you, would he?"

Fusing her lips together she retorts, "I'll be sure to get your fucking shirt back."

* * *

They lay head to foot on his double bed, the sheets tangled around them in a less than modest manner. Mark runs a hand down her long legs, before picking up a foot and beginning to massage it. Addison props her head on top of his pillows, staring at him thoughtfully.

"You've been quiet tonight," He can't help but observe.

"I thought you liked it when I was quiet," She retorts, harsher than she intends to.

It's enough for him to notice that something isn't quite right with her. "What's wrong?"

Rolling her entire body to the side she sighs, "Nothing. Just forget it."

"Hey," Mark grabs onto her hip, nudging her slightly until she agrees to look back up at him. "What is it?" He catches her silently deliberating as if it's something she should say or if she should just let it go. "If I did something wrong…" Mark trails off and this almost instantly gets a response from her.

"Archer knows about us," She remarks stiffly.

"Oh," It takes him a moment to fully process everything from her demanding he give her the pale blue polo shirt, to a heated make out session that ultimately led into _let me pin you up against my dresser and rip your clothes off with my teeth _sex. In the end, he realizes her brother confronting her about their relationship didn't go very well. "So I guess he didn't take it very well," Mark assumes regretfully.

Addison shakes her head slowly, lifting herself up onto her shoulders before bringing her legs into her chest. "He thinks I'm too good for you," She bites down on her lower lip.

He sits up straighter and then inclines his head forward. In a slightly diminished tone he says, "He's probably right."

"I don't think so," She returns softly.

"Those are just your Forbes-Montgomery manners coming out again," He taunts her.

Smirking she recalls, "I don't have those when I'm with you, remember?"

He chuckles softly, which causes her to laugh some more. She can relax a bit upon seeing a real smile from him. The moment the moment passes, Mark can't help but ask. "Was he really mad?"

Addison shakes her head, "He's just worried I'm going to get attached to you, and you'll break my heart." She then asks when he doesn't say anything right away, "Would you? Do that to me?"

"Well if I did, I would be breaking my own heart too. Because I'm already attached to you, Addison."

She seems skeptical about this, and asks defensively. "Why won't you take me out?"

"You want to go out?" He glances over at the clock on the wall, "We can still make Patterson's party if you want-"

Addison interrupts, "No I mean, on a date. Why won't you take me out on a date?"

"I never said I wouldn't take you out on a date," He counters with a wry grin. "I just didn't know you'd grown so attached to me, Red."

She opens her mouth to object, but Mark silences her with a kiss that takes her breath away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Here comes the final part to this short fic. I know it's not the grandest, but it is what it is. I added the Addek scene at the end, you know to make it all come full circle. Hopefully I succeeded in that at least.**

**Also as a bit of a side note, if you're in need of some other wonderful Maddison fics you should check Danyel's (onlywordsnow).**

* * *

_And our love could have soared, over playgrounds and rooftops,_

_Every park bench screamed your name._

Everyone reacted differently the first time they stepped out in the sunlight together. Archer had taken Mark aside and given him the whole _that's my little sister and if you break her heart I'll kill you _speech. Phil Donovan was jealous. Sav was delighted and asked if the rumors about Mark's abilities in bed were actually true. While Naomi appeared to be happy for her friend, she often whispered her legitimate concerns to Sam when Addison or Mark was nowhere to be found.

And then two months flew by faster than anyone could have anticipated. The initial reactions were soon being shaped to mean other things. Archer treated Mark more like a brother, especially when he started coming over for Sunday dinner. Phil had found some other unattainable girl to chase after. Sav grew restless at not having someone to fulfill her own needs. And Naomi's hushed conversations with Sam were now those of pleasant surprise instead of deep-rooted concern.

Everything between them seems to be grander than either one of them could have expected. It's apparent they fit together despite their often spats over everything and nothing. He announces something that holds doubling meaning about their intimate moments, which earns him a light smack on the shoulder or back of the head. She builds up a wall every time a girl from his past shows up, growing more cold and distant until he finally finds a way to pry it out of her. Even with all the little things that get thrown their way, it doesn't feel particularly hard for them. Which is probably why they should have seen the end coming. Because if there's anything the most elite of the Hamptons know, it's that hard work is the only way to get exactly what you want.

They grow content with the versions of themselves they're slowly becoming. Mark charms both of her parents, and somehow she manages to bring a smile to his mother's face. Their parents require them to attend various charity events, and they are expected to show up together. But it's not until Phil Donovan drunkenly tells her one night that Mark is in the upstairs bathroom with Nancy Hamilton, and something inside of her snaps.

This revelation brings out all the finer things that make them the couple they have grown into. How compliant they have become with the norms of a society both of them have desperately tried to break away from. And now with this new piece of information. The realization that if she stays with him they will turn into another lost generation consumed by debauchery and extramarital affairs that are common knowledge but politely ignored. She refuses to live the life her mother chose. Not when there is still time for her to make a future for herself sans a male partner to provide for her.

So she downs a few more drinks in a matter of seconds, feeling the buzz after only five minutes. And much to Phil Donovan's delight, she grabs the front of his shirt and shoves him into the closet under the stairs. In the cramped, darkened room she tells herself it's the only way to get them out of this situation. It's the only way to salvage their dreams of greatness and grow into being the best versions of themselves.

Phil's mouth tastes like stale ale, and it's enough to make her cringe. She puts her hands up in between them, muttering throatily. "Rule number one: you don't kiss me there."

"Or what?" He taunts back in a playful manner, "You'll punish me?"

"No," Her tone drips with acidic tones as she pulls on his hair more forcefully, "or this won't happen. You either screw me, or nothing."

"Sweet," Phil sounds his approval.

He nips at the curve of her neck, sucking on her skin in a way that's going to leave a mark she'll have to get creative at covering. Then again it might be easier if Mark just noticed it, it would definitely save her from having to offer a real explanation. Phil's hips press into hers, until her spine digs into the slanted ceiling, hair getting tangled in the mess of cobwebs. His hands roam over her exposed skin, creating goose bumps but not for reasons of pleasure. Addison can feel his hardness through the tight jeans as it rubs against her center. He hikes up her skirt and reaches around for her panties when they are both blinded by a brilliant light and the sounds of a party bring them back to reality.

Addison's eyes flit over to the intruder and then her face freezes in terror when she see's the shock and disappointment in Mark's grey eyes. Everything else happens so quickly; there isn't any time for her to react.

Mark grabs the back of Phil's untucked shirt and drags him out of the closet. "You son of a bitch," He growls menacingly throwing him against the opposite wall.

The idle chatter in the hallway ceases as they gather around to watch the altercation unfold. Once Phil regains his composure he stands up straight and moves towards Mark, "What the hell's your problem, man?"

He snaps back angrily, "That's my girlfriend you're messing around with, Donovan."

"Hey," Phil brings his hands in the air and plays the role of the innocent, "she was asking for it."

These words send Mark over the edge. Swinging back, his fist collides with the side of Phil's face until he crumples to the ground. Diving on top of him before he tries to get back on his feet, Mark pins him in the hallway and continues to repeatedly punch the guy who had to have come onto his girlfriend against her will. After a few minutes of letting the beating unfold, two guys pull Mark off of a squirming Phil and move to escort him out of the house.

His hardened grey eyes flash over to Addison's momentarily, and he shrugs off the mediators before turning to leave the scene.

"Mark! Mark wait!" She calls after him, running down the front steps of the mansion. "Mark! Mark you have to get that looked at," Addison pleads with him, reaching for his arm so he'll stop stomping away.

"I'm fine," He recoils from her touch, not even looking back at her.

"No, you aren't." She argues. "You're hand it's bleeding."

He whirls around and stares down at her menacingly. She shrinks away at the uncomfortable nature in which he's now looking at her in. "Why do you even care?"

Addison blinks back at him, surprised by the animosity in his tone. "Because…I do." Her eyes widen with a deep felt sadness and regret, "I care about you, Mark."

He clenches his jaw and mutter darkly, "You don't screw with the people you care about, Addison."

"Mark!" She practically jogs alongside him to keep up with his pace, "Please! It's not what you think."

"Oh so his hands weren't all over you?" He bites back, "He wasn't kissing you? Or trying to undress you? Because you could have fooled me."

He's slipping away from her like hot sand through her fingers. And while she wanted things to end before they could get worse, Addison could have never anticipated doing so under a false guise. The hurt etched across his face and anger dripping in his tone, confuses her. If he was with someone else why would he care about her and Phil?

"Well what about you and Nancy Hamilton?" She demands suddenly, bringing his alleged indiscretions to light.

"What?" Mark frowns at her.

"Phil said you were in the upstairs bathroom with her," She explains swiftly.

Scoffing at her in disbelief, "And you believed him?" Mark shakes his head slowly.

"You-you weren't with her?" She arches her brow in horror.

"You believed him," His echoes hollowly, his face falling.

Her heart wrenches at the look on his face and she tries to reach for him. "Mark," Her voice comes out softly, in search of redemption. "Mark I-"

He catches her hand that nearly lands on his cheek. His grip isn't gentle or affectionate, but firm and full of hatred. Mark's eyes search her face, the dark mascara underneath her eyes, lipstick smeared to one side of her mouth. And then he sees it. The purplish half moon bruise staining her crème colored flesh. He drops her hand. His hand grabs hold of her neck, forcing her head to tilt to the side in order to reveal the love bite left by another man.

Mark lets go of her so roughly that she stumbles back a few steps. Shaking his head slowly he says, "Even after all this time, you still see me as that egomaniac womanizer who's just going to end up breaking your heart. Well, the joke's on you, Addison. Because you just took my place. Congratulations."

"Mark, please!" Her eyes begin to fill with the salty liquid of regret. "You have to let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain," He counters through narrowed eyes. "I got what I needed from you. And now I'm done." Mark turns his back from her for the last time, with little intention of every seeing her face framed with crimson waves ever again.

* * *

However difficult the breakup was for her, Addison wasn't given a lot of time to grieve. Summer ended quickly, and it was time for her to pack up her belongings and move to the city to start the next chapter of her life. Naomi and Sam desperately tried to keep her busy enough to forget about those two months with Mark Sloan. And for a while it worked.

But with one more week left until their studies began, Addison's priorities had shifted drastically. She swore that not until they had their first break would she nurse a sufficiently crippling hangover again. Although Naomi was persistent that they spend one more night on the town, since some of Sam's friends from Bowdoin were in the city. In the end, she relented because Naomi swore to disconnect their phone if she tried to call Mark ever again. What she didn't count on was only meeting one of Sam's college friends. One of Sam's college friends who just happened to be single, relatively attractive, and a first year med student at Columbia as well.

"Naomi! You promised," Addison hisses in her ear, fingernails digging into her forearm as they make their way over to the bar.

"What?" Naomi shrugs, feigning innocence. "We're just meeting some friends," She mutters to Addison.

"Well it looks like just one friend," Addison growls in disapproval at her friends attempt to set her up for the hundredth time.

They reach the bar where Sam and his dark haired friend are currently sitting with their drinks. Naomi pulls Sam into a tight squeeze, while Addison waits for her off to the side. She then reaches the stranger in question, giving Addison some time to hug Sam.

"I'm going to kill you two," She mutters in his ear.

"Just give him a chance, Addie." Sam returns before releasing her and turning her back to the other two in their party.

"Oh Derek," Naomi places two hands on his shoulders and points over to the tall redhead, "this is my friend Addison I've been telling you about. Addison Montgomery meet Derek Shepherd."

"Hi," He extends a hand for her to shake.

"Hello," Addison returns less than enthusiastic, placing her hand in his.

Her gaze drifts over to Naomi and she frowns whenever her friend says, "Ok, you two talk we're going to search for a table." She laces her arm with Sam's and they stroll away from the bar.

"Nae, wait!" She calls after her and then sighs when it's clear she's left alone with this strange guy. Her eyes fall back onto his brilliant blue ones. He smiles at her, causing her to glance away. For a moment everything is quiet and even a bit awkward.

But then Derek clears his throat and comments lightly, "So Addison, that's a unique name."

Looking back up at him she shrugs with slight indifference. "Well my parents were hoping for another boy. So I imagine they coped with their disappointment by giving their baby girl a name that means 'son of Adam.'"

He laughs at her dry remark, which helps her to relax considerably. Derek remarks, "Well how could they be disappointed when you carry it so well?"

"You're good," She points at him knowingly. "You have that whole 'I'm listening to every word you say and find it charming vibe,' do you do this often?"

"What?" He seems confused by her assumption.

The sincerity in his tone practically answers the question for her, but she says it anyway. "Blind dates."

"No, never actually. You're my first."

"Haha…well I promise to be gentle," She muses lightly, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks slightly at her sudden boldness.

He notices and this only seems to broaden his smile, "Can I get you a drink, Addison?"

"That depends," She cocks a brow before asking with a defensive air, "Are you going to try and get me drunk and into bed with you?"

Derek looks taken aback by her words. But he manages a rather dreamy looking smile before admitting, "That's really not my style."

"Are you sure about that?"

He exhales at her guarded expression, trying to think of another way to get through it. So he tells her kindly, "Look Addison, I think it's pretty clear you were blindsided by this tonight. And I'm sorry for that. I thought you knew about this." Derek pauses, thinking she'll have another smart retort for him. But when none comes he continues sincerely, "So if you want, I can finish my drink, tell Sam and Naomi goodnight, and then take you home. Or you can let me buy you a drink, and we can just sit here and talk. It's obvious you put a lot of effort into looking nice tonight. And I know girls don't like to put in the effort only to sit at home on a Friday night."

Narrowing her eyes, she can't help but question. "How do you know that?"

"I have four sisters," He admits with a half smile.

Surprise flickers across her face at his sudden admission. It could be a line, but even if it was one, it's not a very good one. She can't but smile back at him, her guard slowly beginning to fold.

He notices this and asks curiously, "So what will it be?"

She thinks for a moment, and then deduces from the tear on his jacket and wrinkled shirt he's not like the other guys she's used to. So she decides to take a leap of faith. "Martini, extra dry, with an olive," Her red lips curl into a smirk, and Derek inclines his head with the smile before waving over the bartender.

Anything that happened before them, she chooses to forget. However if there's one thing Addison doesn't realize in this moment is that history chooses to repeat itself.


End file.
